Well, Ariel announced to the world yesterday that I performed in a play in drag last weekend and lamented that she didn’t have pictures. But some kind soul and/or total jerkface did take pictures and they’re on the internet already anyway, so I may as well make good on her promise for her, because the expression I’m making in this one picture is exactly how I feel about reading Fifty Shades Darker at this point.
Chapter Ten
Anyway, Ana and Christian are on a boat, motherfucker. And they also just had sex, because apparently E L James is really into helping me make Lonely Island references today.
Leaning over, Christian kisses me tenderly. “Ana, you look so beautiful right now, all mussed up and sexy. Makes me want you more.”
Just for fun, I did a quick search through Fifty Shades Darker to see how many times Christian Grey says “want you”, and it turns out he says something along those lines sixty four times! The book is 383 pages, so on average, Christian tells Ana he wants her once every six pages (roughly). You can understand why I’m getting really tired of this.
I cock my head to one side. “You are master of my heart, Mr. Grey.”And my body . . . and my soul.
Fortunately, this is the only time Ana has ever said this. Less fortunately, I just threw up everywhere.
Would I leave him again now that he’s admitted he loves me?
You know, this is almost an interesting question, and could make for an interesting exploration into the nature of love and especially of trying to find it, so long as nothing stupid happens like she immediately makes up her mind before the paragraph ends.
I gaze up into his clear gray eyes. Could I ever leave him again—no matter what he did to me? Could I betray him like that? No. I don’t think I could.
Okay, fine, don’t do any of that. Just keep saying stupid things, Ana.
He is an exceptional lover, I’m sure—though, of course, I have no comparison. But Kate would have raved more if it was always like this; it’s not like her to hold back on details.
Yep, that’s pretty much all I can expect. Does this make any kind of sense? Ana thinks the sex is great although she has nothing to compare it to, so she can’t definitely say it’s good. That’s solid. But then she decided that it must be good because a different person having sex with different people doesn’t discuss how good her different sex life is more often? What?
They go to dinner or something (I’m not paying much attention), and Ana asks why Christian doesn’t have any guy friends his age, and he’s all “I dunno”. Then Christian asks Ana why she thinks he isn’t happy with their less BDSM-y sex life, and Ana’s all “I dunno”. It’s pretty gripping stuff that we’ve already read about for 166 pages.
He thinks I might leave if I know him. He thinks that I might leave if he’s himself. Oh, this man is so complicated.
Those are the same fucking thing. That is actually the same thought worded in two different ways. It’s not even a particularly interesting thought. A person is worried that someone they want to like them might not like a certain part of them. Holy shit, I bet that never happens to anyone! How complicated!
Anyway, then they start making out in the elevator.
Out of the corner of my eye, Taylor steps backward so he’s no longer in my line of sight.
Jesus, I legitimately feel really bad for Taylor sometimes.
I wander disconsolately into the bedroom, Wait a moment—what is going on? The iPad is gone. Where’s my Mac? Oh no. My first uncharitable thought is that Leila may have stolen them.
I fly back downstairs and back into Christian’s bedroom. On the bedside table are my Mac, my iPad, and my satchel.
Oh thank goodness that was resolved in two paragraphs; I couldn’t have taken that tension. But then a new conflict arises!
“I was just getting my clothes ready for work tomorrow,” I mutter.
“Work!” Christian exclaims as if it’s a dirty word, and he releases me, glaring.
And then, get ready for this, guys, they have a fight about Ana going to work.
“I have a new job, which I enjoy. Of course I have to go to work. […] Do you think I am going to stay here twiddling my thumbs while you’re off being Master of the Universe?”
“Frankly . . . yes.”
This repeats for about two pages and then Christian reluctantly decides that Ana can, in fact, go to work.
